


Sometimes height differences are bad

by flintrage



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anyway there's no real sex in the first chapter but there will be if I ever continue it, Cock Slapping, Dom/sub Undertones, Exploring the very real potential for discomfort during sex due to height differences, Height Differences, Humour, I'll sail this ship myself if I have to, It's tragic truly, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn that doesn't take itself seriously, Thomas doesn't want a crick in his neck, Thomas is a little shit, Thomas is also too tall to kneel and get cock-slapped while Hal is standing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:45:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintrage/pseuds/flintrage
Summary: Someone mentioned Gates slapping Thomas with his cock until he sucks it, and Thomas being a little shit to provoke him. All that came of my attempts to indulge them was Thomas being a little shit.





	Sometimes height differences are bad

Thomas humours the firm, downward push of Hal’s hand on his shoulder: he kneels, amused. His posture is atrocious, and he raises innocent eyebrows when Hal clicks his tongue at him. 

“Up  _straight_.”

“I have a bad back, you know,” says Thomas lightly, tipping his chin up a little. But after a moment he does straighten, shifts and squares his shoulders. He sighs with the air of a man who could, at any moment, choose to shatter Hal’s illusion of control.

For a man like Gates, used to commanding matters in the bedroom with ease, it’s maddening. But he ignores the  _cheek_  in Thomas’ tone, the insouciant way he looks up at him, like he isn’t overly-invested in how this proceeds anyway. All of that can be dealt with. 

When he pulls his cock from his breeches he watches Thomas carefully. Thomas won’t flush and drop his gaze, Hal thinks, the way the captain would if he saw Gates looking at him. And he’s right: Thomas looks up from his silent admiration of Hal’s cock and meets his eyes without the faintest trace of embarrassment. If anything, he looks amused, and Gates is a heartbeat from asking why he’s  _smirking_  when Thomas looks pointedly down at his cock and--oh.

Oh, right.

_Thomas is too fucking tall for this position._

“Well?” Thomas asks, tilting his head slightly. He’s clearly trying not to laugh. “Hit me with it.”

“Lanky bastard,” Gates grumbles, not entirely without fondness. “Change of plans. Get up.”

“First you want me kneeling, now you don’t--honestly, Hal, the  _demands_ you place on me--”

Gates looks flatly at him. “If you’d like to pull a muscle in your neck, be my guest.” 

“Tempting. But no, I suppose not.” Thomas rises. Hal doesn’t miss the slight wince when he does- he really  _does_  have a bad back- but Thomas ignores the fleeting look of  _do-we-need-to-stop_ Hal gives him. Instead, Thomas considers the cabin, humming in thought. He nods to the hanging bed. “What if I lie on the cot?” As he says it, the bed swings, thudding gently against the wall. Hal scoffs.

“We’re on a  _moving_   _ship_ ,” he says, exasperated. “You’d be swinging all the time.”

“Exactly. I’ll lie down, you’ll hold your cock out, and the bed will tenderly swing my face into it. Minimal effort.”

He looks Hal right in the eye as he says it, deadpan. Hal, cock still hanging from his breeches, snorts and cracks up. 


End file.
